


A Mediation

by Uozumi



Series: The Doctor and the Winchester Brothers [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, F/M, M/M, Superwho, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 04:57:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uozumi/pseuds/Uozumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set between episodes twelve and thirteen of season eight of Supernatural. While Samandriel is given another chance for a special mission, Craig Owens calls Dean asking for help finding his son Alfie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mediation

**Author's Note:**

> **Fandom** _Doctor Who_ (2005)/ _Supernatural_ (SuperWho)  
>  **Character(s)/Pairing(s)** Adam Milligan, Castiel, Craig, Dean, Doctor, Naomi, Sam, Samandriel (Alfie), Sophie; Craig/Sophie, Castiel/Dean (Destiel), maybe some Adam/Samandriel if you want to look at it that way   
> **Genre** Alternate Universe/Crossover/Drama/Fantasy/Scifi/Supernatural  
>  **Rating** PG  
>  **Word Count** 8,424  
>  **Disclaimer** Doctor Who c. Neman, Webber, Wilson, BBC; Supernatural c. Kripke, CW, WB  
>  **Summary** Set between episodes twelve and thirteen of season eight of _Supernatural_. While Samandriel is given another chance for a special mission, Craig Owens calls Dean asking for help finding his son Alfie.   
> **Warning(s)** spoilers up through series seven episode six of _Doctor Who_ and season eight episode sixteen of _Supernatural_ , violence  
>  **Notes** I’ve been meaning to write this since Samandriel’s introduction. Season eight episode ten of _Supernatural_ gave me the key to the fic. This fic takes place in an alternate timeline in which Craig, Sophie, Amy, and Rory’s present timeline was the early 90’s instead of the late 2000’s/early 2010’s, so Alfie was born circa 1992 – 1993 in this universe. This fic became so much bigger than its original intention. I honestly started writing it when episode ten aired and it was supposed to be this short thing and then it just evolved into this large thing.

**_A Mediation_ **

Death was not what Samandriel expected. It was frigidly cold in places and excruciatingly hot in others. A body bumped into his from behind in a never ending line. This was unlike any part of Heaven Samandriel had ever been in before, but perhaps this was where angels went when their brethren killed them. Samandriel shivered and continued to move in the never-ending line until he heard a voice. It spoke in Enochian. Samandriel stumbled into a body in front of him and took in a sharp breath. He was in Hell. The voice, assured Samandriel that he was not dead, but his Grace was dwindling. He had to get out of the line and work with the voice. 

Samandriel ran a hand through his hair and navigated the long hallways. He was in the seventh, maybe eighth circle of the re-envisioned Hell. He had to get to the ninth. His wings were in pieces. Samandriel ran. He had to get to the ninth circle before Crowley. The voice guided him. He did not have his angelic sword. The voice assured it would not be necessary. Samandriel could smell demons all around him. There was a white-hot door near the end of the room. Samandriel took a deep breath. He had another chance. He would redeem himself. This was a mission only Samandriel could do.

**WVWVW**

Dean and Sam decided to find the bunker in the morning. It was two hours before the alarm clock when Dean’s phone rang. The voice on the other end was high and British. “Hello? Uh…Dean Winchester?”

Dean let out a small, tired noise and sat up in bed. He rubbed his face. “Yeah. Yeah. It’s me.” He glanced at the clock. Three hours of sleep. Sam was still asleep in the other motel bed. 

“Good. I’m Craig Owens. A friend gave me your number,” Craig said. He paused and took a deep breath. “We really need your help.”

“A friend?” Dean rolled out of the bed and went to turn on the coffee machine on the bathroom counter. From the tone and nerves in Craig’s voice, Dean would peg him for worried father. Dean was torn between not wanting to deal with a monster that killed or harmed children and the notion he might be taking another such monster out of the world to make the world safer. 

“He’s, well, Doctor,” Craig said. “He said you could help. Alfie hasn’t been home for years. The police –”

“‘Alfie?’” Dean almost dropped the paper mug in his hand. “Kind of tall? Works fast food?” Dean looked up at the ceiling and then teased the paper handle of the paper mug away from its body. 

“Yeah. Did Doctor talk to you?” Craig sounded hopeful. 

“Not exactly,” Dean said. “Uh…tell you what, I’ll talk to Doc and get back to you.” After bidding Craig farewell, Dean sighed deeply and disconnected from the call. He sensed more than heard or saw Sam in the doorway. Sam was doing that over-staring thing. Dean was used to it. 

“What was that about?” Sam asked. He looked concerned. He heard Alfie, Doctor, a promise to look into something. 

“The Doctor,” Dean said, “volunteered us to find Alfie.” Dean poured the coffee into the mug and handed it to Sam. He pulled the handle of another paper mug and then filled it for himself.

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “Samandriel?” He sipped his coffee. It was still almost too hot. 

“Yeah,” Dean said. “He volunteered us to tell Alfie’s parents he suited up for Jesus.” Dean blew on his cup a little and began to down the coffee. 

“Or the Doctor doesn’t know,” Sam said and retreated back into the room. He put his cup on the table, stretched, and started picking through his bag for a fresh shirt. 

“Doesn’t know? Your son is missing, I’ll send you to the angel magnets, they’ll know,” Dean said. He grabbed a bottle of dandruff shampoo out of his bag and finished off his coffee. “He’ll be avoiding his phone if he’s smart.” The Doctor always answered Dean’s phone calls, but Dean heard from more than one of the Doctor’s companions that the Time Lord did not always answer his phone. Dean did not want to mess with a phone call that the Doctor might not answer. 

The brothers met the Doctor when they were young children back when the Doctor was taller and wore a long brown coat. Back then the Doctor’s companion was Donna. Dean helped the Doctor and Donna on a few more occasions by himself. Then the brothers met the Doctor again together without Donna when the Doctor warned them that his appearance might change. Sam was the first to see the Doctor’s new face at Stanford. Dean saw the Doctor’s new face the night Bobby died. The Doctor had tried to get the brothers to help him rescue a companion and her baby. However, with Bobby in the hospital, the brothers could not answer the TARDIS that came for them. The Doctor understood and apologized when the brothers made it back to what remained of Bobby’s house. That was the last time either brother saw the Doctor. 

Dean went out into the parking lot. It was winter and still dark at the early hour. The motel had a security camera, but it was indoors and pointed at the register. Dean quietly emptied the dandruff shampoo across the expanse of the parking lot. The he lit it on fire. He hurried away from the flame, sat on the trunk of the Impala, and waited. There was no breeze. On the concrete the flames burned themselves into exhaustion. Sam soon joined Dean. Once all the flames extinguished and only scorch marks remained, there was a familiar noise to their right. After a few whirs, a British police box appeared in an unused corner of the parking lot. 

Dean slid off the trunk and stood. Sam followed suit. The Doctor peeked out of the TARDIS and looked at them both. “You could have called.”

“Didn’t know if you’d answer your phone,” Dean said. He let the Doctor walk over to him and Sam. 

The Doctor held up a picture printed from the Internet of a parking lot with, “Get your ass over here, Doctor,” burnt onto the asphalt. The Doctor looked at it and then at the brothers. “You could have asked nicely,” he said. 

“It worked,” Dean said.

Sam held up his hands. He didn’t want to start any fights. They had never fought with the Doctor before. He did not want to start now. “We got a call from uh…” 

“Craig Owens,” Dean said and was careful to enunciate while not looking away from the Doctor. He wanted to know if Craig was legit and what kind of friend he might be of the Doctor’s.

“Yeah, Craig Owens about his son Alfie,” Sam said. “He said you told him we could help him find his son.” 

“Yes, yes I did,” the Doctor said. He shifted his weight. 

“So you do know about Samandriel and Alfie,” Dean said. He knew that nervous dance. 

“I didn’t when I suggested they talk to you,” the Doctor said. “Craig and Sophie told me Stormy went to work and then disappeared in a flash of light. It can’t be Cenlurians, they aren’t in this sector of the universe yet, so it had to be something paranormal.” 

“We don’t know where he is right now,” Sam said. “He might even be dead.” 

The Doctor’s face fell. Dean shifted his weight. His eyebrows furrowed. He licked his lips. “He’s probably in Heaven – permanently. Dead or vivisected, we don’t know.” Sam gave Dean a sideways glance, not sure how Dean knew the word vivisection. 

“ _Island of Doctor Moreau_?” Dean asked. “ _Dracula_?” When Sam did not say anything, Dean’s attention turned back to the Doctor. “Ca,” Dean stopped himself and thought better, “another angel took him back to Heaven. Something about angelic burial.” 

The Doctor shook his head at that. “Angels don’t burry their dead,” the Doctor said. The muscles where his eyebrows would grow pulled the skin together in a furrow. “The bodies are taken care of by humans like any other death. Unless….”

Sam and Dean watched the Doctor expectantly. When the Doctor did not continue, Sam asked, “‘Unless…?’”

The Doctor’s eyes met Sam’s and then Dean’s gaze, “Unless the angel is resurrected or dissected.” 

Dean was quiet for a long moment. He grabbed the Doctor’s sleeve and tugged it to usher the Doctor towards the Impala. “You’re coming with us. We’re going to figure out where Alfie went. The TARDIS will still be here when we get back.” 

**WVWVW**

Castiel felt nauseated. The last time he felt this way, he was mortal. He was not mortal now and he did not know how the feeling originated. Naomi leaned over him, propping him up with both of her hands around his collar. Naomi searched his face and then let him go so he dropped stiffly into a chair placed strategically behind him. 

“Wha…did you do?” Castiel rasped. 

Naomi did not answer the question. She went over to her desk and leaned against it, facing Castiel. She folded her arms. “Heaven needs you, Castiel. You’ve gone there before. We know you can go there again.”

Castiel peered up at her through the hair falling into his eyes. “‘There?’”

“We need you to go to Hell, Castiel,” Naomi said. “You need to bring Samandriel to us. No tricks.”

“‘No tricks,’” Castiel repeated distantly. 

“Then go. Retrieve him before it’s too late,” Naomi said. “And, remember, we know when you stray.”

Castiel gave her one last look and then he disappeared, the faint sound of wings announcing his departure. 

**WVWVW**

The ninth circle of Hell was unlike the other circles under Crowley’s management. The walls were on fire, but it was a freezing cold fire on one side of the small expanse and an almost melting heat on the other side. There was a small building in the middle. Icicles hung on two sides of the building and the other side dripped slowly like candle wax. The shack was deceptively small, Samandriel knew this. He could only imagine how large it would be on the inside unless the cage was another building inside of the shack. 

The voice whispering Enochian to Samandriel said Samandriel’s time would be up soon. It told him that if Samandriel got in there and got to Adam, that what was left of Samandriel’s Grace could bring both of them to the surface. Samandriel had the approval that Castiel lacked. Samandriel would have the Grace to do this, but barely. He could not dawdle. 

Samandriel could sense Castiel approaching. He knew he would not have much longer until Crowley might appear as well. Hellhounds and demons were also a concern. The voice knew all of this. It could not tell Samandriel how to enter the building, only that he had minutes to do so. Samandriel extended a hand, allowing his angelic sword to appear. Its light was weak, not only from the negative miasma of Hell, but his own waning powers. He looked at the door, shook his head, and made the sword disappear. Using the sword would be too easy. This door was probably like the door to the mines in that book Alfie liked. Samandriel had to be smart like Merry, but somehow Samandriel doubted he could say the word “friend” in one of the ancient tongues of Lucifer to gain entrance. He reached out to try the door handle, hoping the simplest answer might be the correct answer. 

**WVWVW**

It was their best china on the coffee table, Dean could tell. The house was nice, lived in. It was clean and the kind of place Sam fantasized about and Dean could not quite bring himself to fantasize about. There were pictures over the mantle. These were indeed Alfie’s parents and his aging from a baby to high school student was displayed around the house. Sophie’s hair was considerably thinner and she looked emotionally and mentally exhausted. Craig still struggled with his weight and there was gray at the temples. The Doctor settled onto the sofa between Sam and Dean. Craig and Sophie settled onto the chairs across from them. Sophie poured the tea. 

“I didn’t think all three of you would come,” Craig said. He seemed genuinely happy to see them. “Thank you.” 

“You know me,” the Doctor said, “always happy to help.” He accepted his cup from Sophie. It smelled delicious. 

“Can you tell us about Alfie’s disappearance?” Sam asked. 

Sophie’s hands almost slipped. Craig put a comforting hand on her arm. “It was five years ago. It was like any other day. I went to work and Alfie went to school. He went to work after classes.” Craig took a breath. “When I came to pick him up, his manager hadn’t seen him in hours.” 

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed. “Did anybody say if they saw anything weird? Flashes of light maybe?” 

Sophie took a cup of tea for herself once everyone else has been served. “Annabeth, a girl he worked with, came over once his disappearance made the news. She was reluctant, but she told me such a strange story. I got angry and made her leave.” Sophie frowned and brushed some hair out of her eyes. “I don’t remember the details, but she said she was in the backroom getting something when she heard a voice. She saw Alfie talking to himself.” Sophie tried to remember the words but she could not. “And then, she said he became a white, hot glowing light so bright she had to close her eyes. When she opened them, he was gone.”

Dean set his tea down. The description made the brew sour. “Was Alfie acting weird before this?”

Craig and Sophie looked at each other and then away. Craig shifted his weight and set his cup down. “I can’t tell you.” He looked at the brothers and the Doctor. “We were having a family crisis.” 

Sophie stirred her tea silently, watching the spoon. “Don’t sugar coat it.” Her eyes averted from the spoon to the Doctor and the brothers. “I had cancer. It was late-stage ovarian cancer. There was nothing anyone could do.” 

Sam opened his mouth and then closed it, reconsidering his question. “After….” His voice trailed and he tried again, “How long after Alfie disappeared did you go into remission?”

Everyone looked at Sam. Then Dean caught on to the line of thought. Sophie and Craig were quiet, uncertain. The Doctor drank his tea and continued listening. 

“About a month later,” Sophie said. “I was feeling more energetic and the doctor couldn’t find any signs of it.” 

“Does it sound like an alien?” Craig asked. “Or whatever you get up to?” Sam and Dean had not said what they did exactly. They did not seem to be like the Doctor. 

“Something like that,” Dean muttered. He did not know how to explain this to Craig and Sophie. Dean leaned forward. “Have you ever heard the name Samandriel?”

Craig and Sophie gave it thought. They shook their heads. “No,” Craig said. “Is that what it’s called? What took him in a light?”

The Doctor put a hand on Dean’s shoulder to ease him back into a less aggressive posture. “Yes,” the Doctor said, “and we’re going to find it and get some answers.” 

Dean looked at the Doctor. He did not argue. In the car on the way over, Sam and Dean explained the situation to the Doctor, including the part where Samandriel died. The Doctor ignored Dean’s gaze and smiled reassuringly at Craig and Sophie. “If anyone can find Stormy, it’s these two.”

**WVWVW**

The door handle sent an electric jolt up Samandriel’s arm, rendering it temporarily immobile. Samandriel frowned and let out an audible sigh. The voice was now silent and Samandriel was left to his own devices. 

“Leave Hell long enough and the rats invade,” Crowley said from a few yards behind Samandriel. 

Samandriel did not jump, but he did turn around to face Crowley quickly. He had not sensed Crowley. His body tensed and he extended his palm, calling his sword. 

“Really? Do you think that magic stick will kill me?” Crowley stepped forward. “You’re in the farthest point in Hell. My powers are much stronger here than anywhere else.” 

“I know I was brought here for a reason,” Samandriel said. “I was spared to do this and I will do it.” 

“Clinging to faith when your father abandons you and your brother kills you,” Crowley chuckled. “You don’t even know who resurrected you. How do you know you aren’t doing my bidding? Maybe I wanted you to only think you escaped my reach.”

Samandriel stood his ground. He licked his lips. He took a deep breath, trying to center himself. He tried not to think about his emotional state when Castiel killed him. He tried not to focus on the nerves he felt now. He could hear his feathers falling. He was running out of time. He was not of Castiel’s rank. He could not do whatever Castiel had done to access the Cage. He had to get into the building and work his way to Adam from there. 

Samandriel sniffed the air. Demons were lurking. Like Crowley, he had not noticed their approach. There was at least a dozen. Almost all of them kept their distance for now. There was a long, long silence and then Samandriel took two steps forward towards Crowley, threatening with his sword. 

Demons sprang to action. Samandriel’s encroaching mortality was too tempting. A group of demons jumped on him, daring Samandriel to use the last of his Grace to purify them. Samandriel stumbled backwards. The demons dug their nails into his flesh and tried to bite him. Samandriel used as small amount of Grace as he dared. Some of the demons cried out in pain and let go. Two still clung to Samandriel. He reached out through them, trying to pull away, and his hand touched the door handle. 

Instantly Samandriel and the demons disappeared in a flash of light and a burst of dark smoke. 

**WVWVW**

It was a few weeks after meeting Craig and Sophie. Sam and Dean left the mystery of the bunker for once the Samandriel situation ended. The Doctor remained with Sam and Dean. It was late at night and Sam was up at his computer while the Doctor read quietly from a book he picked up from a used book shop where they encountered a family of ghosts a week back. Dean slept with his back to the table. It eased Sam’s mind to see Dean asleep after the restlessness and probable PTSD from the past few months. The sleepless nights were becoming fewer and farther between. Having Castiel and then the Doctor with them helped Dean greatly. 

The Doctor followed Sam’s gaze. “I heard he was in Purgatory.” 

“Yeah,” Sam said. “He got back in October.” Sam looked away from Dean and back at his laptop. 

“How are you doing?” The Doctor kept his finger on his place when the Doctor partially closed the book. 

Sam blinked at the question. He shifted his weight. “I’m…fine.” He looked at the Doctor. “I eat, I sleep. I get by.” Sam did not know what more he could do. Every time he tried to break that kind of cycle, something dragged him back into this lifestyle. 

The Doctor studied Sam through his hair and then ran a hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes. He set the book aside after memorizing the page number. 

Sam watched this. “Uh…I do have a question.” He closed his laptop. “When you travel in the TARDIS,” Sam considered his words, “do you lose parts of your soul?” He hoped the question did not sound too weird. 

The Doctor leaned back in his chair. “What?” 

“We met another time traveler before Craig called,” Sam explained, “and he said he had to recharge his soul before he could time travel again. I thought maybe that’s why you changed your body.” 

“Oh that,” the Doctor said. He pushed the book along the edge of the table briefly. “Traveling in the TARDIS is different than that. The Time Lords developed a way to manipulate time and space at the cost of some of our own. It doesn’t affect when and how I regenerate.” He rested his arms on the table and held Sam’s gaze. “That spell, that signal, is something you should never do. You can’t just ‘rest’ your soul, it’s not infinite. Every time you time travel that way, your soul degrades and then you become something terrible.” 

Sam held the Doctor’s gaze and nodded. “He died before he got to that point.” Sam felt like he could tell the Doctor anything in this motel room. “He was our grandfather. On Dad’s side.” 

“I’m sorry, Sam,” the Doctor said quietly. 

Sam nodded. “I’m going to catch some sleep.” He stood up. “If something comes up, you can wake me.” They decided long ago that Dean should be left to sleep unless it was morning or an emergency. 

**WVWVW**

The Cage smelled stale and pungent. It was not cold nor was it hot, but it was uncomfortable. Samandriel looked around at the trees in shades of flesh surrounding him, too tall to see the treetops. Somewhere far away, Samandriel heard an unearthly shriek that made the ground shake slightly. The demons that tumbled in with him were scorched earth at Samandriel’s feet. Samandriel could feel the ache of exposed bone in his wings. Adam could be anywhere. He had to move fast. Samandriel used what was left of his Grace in spurts. He tried to cover as much ground as possible while keeping enough Grace to get out. The voice sounded so confident that he would get Adam out with Adam’s soul intact. Samandriel felt like an instrument to perform a determined task. It brought him comfort and confidence. It was his true nature to be such an instrument. 

An object whistled through the air towards Samandriel. He dropped to the ground instinctively and watched an angelic sword drive deep into one of the trees. The tree began to smoke. Samandriel looked up from the ground and met Adam’s wild gaze. Adam blinked and then seemed to see Samandriel for the first time. 

Samandriel slowly sat up. “I’m Samandriel. Mortals call me Alfie. I’ve been sent to take you home.” Home of course was Earth. Samandriel could not promise they would leave the Cage for wherever Adam called home in life. 

“Home,” Adam said. He took a deep breath and shook his head. He walked past Samandriel to retrieve the sword. 

Samandriel got to his feet. “I was brought here for a reason. I’m here to take you to Earth, to get you out of this place.” 

Adam tugged the sword free of the tree, his eyes never quite leaving Samandriel through the process. He kept hold of the sword, but did not threaten Samandriel with it. “This is a trick. Lucifer can’t be too far away.” Adam let out a long, low sigh. “Nice name tag. It’s different. It’s a nice touch.” 

The ground rumbled and Adam instinctively positioned himself so he would remain standing through the quake. His gaze followed the vibrations to their origin point in the distance. Samandriel followed Adam’s gaze. “Lucifer and Michael are fighting again,” Samandriel said, “I’m not Lucifer’s trick or Michael’s illusion. You’ve probably seen them fight enough to know that much.”

“You another prisoner?” Adam pocketed his sword. “Or are you here for one of them here for something else Sam missed?” He started to move in the opposite direction of the quakes with the assumption Samandriel would follow. 

“No,” Samandriel said, keeping up with Adam. “I’m here to take you home.”

Adam stopped then and turned to face Samandriel. “Bullshit.” He sized Samandriel up properly now. 

“I have my orders,” Samandriel said. He reached out to grab Adam’s arm, but Adam took a step back. 

“Hey, hey, I saw what happened when that guy came for Sam.” Adam kept his eyes on Samandriel. “I’d rather stay here whole than turn into…that.” He had not seen what became of Sam’s soul in decades. It must have gone into hiding or was dead. Adam tried not to think someone had come for Sam’s soul and not his own with it. 

“Castiel did that without orders,” Samandriel said. “This is different.” It was not a lie. It was definitely different. Samandriel hoped he would be successful even with his wings disintegrating slowly. He knew if he did not grab Adam soon, he would have no wings left when they returned to the earth. 

Adam narrowed his eyes. He took a few steps back, his speed increasing with each step. When he turned to run, Samandriel shot forward, grabbed Adam’s wrist and used the last of his Grace to envelope the two of them in a blinding light.

**WVWVW**

The Doctor walked up the pathway to Craig and Sophie’s home. Sam and Dean hung by the Impala. They would let the Doctor explain the situation to Craig alone. Dean leaned on the hood of the car and looked at Sam. “Do you think he’s actually going to tell Craig about the angels?” Dean kept his voice low. “I wonder if Craig knows about weeping angels.” 

Sam sighed. He glanced back over his shoulder briefly. “I don’t know. There was a woman named River with him once. She told me ‘rule number one: the Doctor lies.” She sighed. “Sometimes I can’t tell when he is and when he isn’t. A lot of what he tells us seems legit.”

“The best liars don’t lie all the time,” Dean said. He frowned. “I miss the other form. He seemed more trustworthy.”

“That’s because you saw him the most,” Sam said. “I only remember him when he said goodbye. He seems more trustworthy now.” Sam wondered if that was good or bad. Sam grew quiet and then he said, “He seems to think we’re going to see Alfie again, or at least his body. Do you think he knows something we don’t?”

“When doesn’t he?” Dean asked. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Dean’s hand paused at the crown of his head. His eyes instinctively closed against a blinding flash of light from behind at least two residential blocks away. 

When the brother’s opened their eyes again, the Doctor was already running towards the source of the light. “Come on.” The Doctor gestured for them to follow. “It’s not far.” Sam and Dean looked at each other before following the Doctor. The Doctor led them across the street and through the side yards towards a vacant lot on the other side of the subdivision. 

Two bodies lay on the ground in the vacant lot. The grass and weeds were tall enough to hide the bodies from view. Long skeletal-like wings were scorched the overgrown grass and weeds around the bodies. Neither breathed. The sound of wings rustling nearby brought color back to their faces and Adam’s eyes snapped open with an audible gasp of breath. He pulled his wrist out of Samandriel’s grasp and pushed himself up onto his elbows. A foot shoved Adam back down. “Y – You –” Adam wheezed. He could not remember the name of the angel standing on him. 

Castiel kept his foot square on Adam’s chest. His eyes were unfocussed, seeing past Adam instead of seeing him. With a flick of his wrist, he grasped his sword. Samandriel let out a quiet, pained noise. Castiel’s attention shifted to Samandriel. Castiel raised his sword, angling the weapon to attack Samandriel first. 

“CAS!” Dean shouted. It felt wrong. Dean was now in the lead of the group running into the vacant lot. He skidded to a halt a few yards from Castiel. “Cas, wait.” 

Castiel froze. His eyes focused briefly. He watched Sam stop just behind Dean and the Doctor jogging to catch up. Castiel did not know this face of the Doctor, but he knew a Time Lord’s smell. “Dean,” Castiel managed in a thin voice. 

Adam remained silent. He looked to the sky, expecting Michael. Michael, of course, did not appear. No other angels joined them. 

Samandriel’s eyes finally opened. “Dean?” he called out. 

“Alfie!” Dean called back. “You okay?” His eyes did not leave Castiel as Castiel slowly stepped off Adam and turned to face Dean.

“Protect Adam,” Samandriel said, “he’s more important.” 

“Adam?” Sam asked. He could almost see them through the grass from where he stood. 

Adam reluctantly sat up. He remembered a lot about Sam. He could place Dean’s face as much as he could his voice. The Doctor was a stranger. Adam reached out and helped Samandriel sit up so Samandriel could see things better as well. 

Dean’s eyebrows relaxed momentarily when he saw both Adam and Samandriel. Then his expression hardened and he frowned, returning his attention to Castiel. “Cas, what were you going to do?”

Castiel looked down at his sword. “I…” When he looked back up, he was in the sterile office Naomi used. Sam and Dean stood across from him. Castiel shuddered instinctively. He hurried to stand between the brothers and the desk. Naomi watched them silently, a constructed smile on her lips. “No,” Castiel said firmly. 

Naomi shook her head as though dealing with a confused child. “This was always the goal.” 

**WVWVW**

“Are they okay?” Adam asked more out of curiosity than concern. 

Castiel, Dean, and Sam stood frozen. None of them blinked. They looked like wax figures. The Doctor circled around the brothers and then stopped in front of Castiel. Adam got up and helped Samandriel to his feet. The two joined the Doctor, trying to see whatever it was he could see. 

“She’s strong,” the Doctor said. “Probably been planning this for a long time now.” He waved his sonic screw driver over Castiel’s form and peered at the device. He narrowed his eyes. “Lachesis or Clotho.” He touched the tip of the sonic screwdriver to his tongue. “Clotho.” 

“Clotho…?” Adam tried to understand. The name sounded familiar, but it had been too long since he was in a classroom. “Who are you?” 

“Friend of Stormy’s,” the Doctor said, gesturing to Samandriel. 

Adam looked at Samandriel. “Right. I think I’m going to go.” He turned away. 

“Go where?” Samandriel asked. 

“Somewhere,” Adam said. “The last time I was around these guys, I ended up invaded by some monster.” He shuddered involuntarily and looked up towards the sky, checking. “I’m out.” He started to move back to the street so he could figure out how to leave the subdivision. 

“Wait.” Samandriel followed. He could feel the Doctor watching them. “You were saved for a reas –”

“I wasn’t saved,” Adam said. “Don’t you get it?” He did not stop walking, but he did slow so Samandriel could catch up. “I’m just bait. Pull me out of ground, those assholes show up. I wasn’t saved, I was just used.” 

“That’s – That’s not true,” Samandriel said and he moved in front of Adam to impede his progress on the sidewalk. 

“Then where were you?” Adam asked. “That ‘Cas’ guy came for Sam. Now everyone’s frozen. I was a trap.” Adam made a soured face. “I was a trap again.” 

“And now you’re out,” Samandriel said. “Don’t throw this away.” 

Before Adam could answer, the Doctor approached them. “Airing out your differences, great,” he said. “But we’ve got a larger problem.” The Doctor stood between them and put a careful hand on both of their shoulders to draw them closer. His eyes kept flickering back to the figures in the empty lot. “Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, the Moirai, the Fates,” the Doctor said. “Clotho weaves the tread, Lachesis measures the thread, and Atropos cuts the thread. It’s all very routine. Except, not so routine. Look at both of you, standing here. Definitely not routine.” He squeezed their shoulders with affection. 

“So, you said Clotho was doing something when you licked your,” he did not know what the sonic screwdriver poking out the doctor’s pocket was, “thing?” Adam prompted. He did not move out of the Doctor’s grasp. 

“Clotho controls a person’s life and a person’s death. If she wants you back from the dead, she will make it happen,” the Doctor said. He dropped his hands and led the boys back towards the frozen figures. “Astral planes are one of her tricks.” He approached Sam. “Normally, her plane bending would be unnoticed or passed off as some sort of petit mal seizure. Not today. Today she has big plans. Today will take more than a few seconds here.” 

“What can we do?” Samandriel asked. “I’m cut off from Heaven.” 

“Heaven can’t stop this,” the Doctor said, “and they have no intention of stopping it or they would have helped Castiel by now.” The Doctor reached into his pockets and pulled out a special box. When he opened the box, it appeared to be much deeper than the outside appeared. The Doctor pulled out an assortment of herbs. “We’re going to summon Clotho and her sisters.” 

**WVWVW**

Naomi remained seated calmly and completely in control at her desk. She studied Castiel, Dean, and then Sam in turn. “Do you know what I am?” she asked the brothers before one of them could start a conversation or make demands. 

Dean moved from behind Castiel to stand in front. “Some angel bitch who’s sad she missed the Apocalypse. Well, look, we stopped it, it’s over, and life goes on.” 

Sam looked uncertain. His eyes did not leave Naomi but his frown lines appeared and his nose wrinkled ever so slightly. Something felt off but he could not place it. It was like when someone sprayed strong, obnoxious perfume in the first row of a crowded lecture hall and it had not quite drifted to the last row yet. 

“My name,” Naomi said, “is Naomi.” She gestured to the chairs across from her. “Sit. We have much to discuss.” 

“Don’t,” Castiel said without thought. “Don’t. That’s what…” He shuddered and could not finish the memory. In this astral plane, Castiel had all of his memories of being here. It started with him sitting. It quickly progressed to the mind pick. He let out a deep breath. 

“Okay then,” Dean said firmly but in a way that would not make Castiel’s nerves worse, “we stand.” 

“Naomi,” Sam said to himself to place the Biblical figure in his mind before addressing the female vessel behind the desk. “Naomi was Ruth’s mother-in-law. She named herself Mara when she became bitter with God.” He licked his lips. “Are you still bitter, Naomi?” 

Naomi continued to smile in her own controlled way. She closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. “The answer is yes and no. I am bitter, yes, but not with God.” She looked at Sam. “I am bitter with you. You three,” her gaze now included Castiel and Dean, “because you’ve made my job irrelevant.” 

“Job?” Dean asked. “What job? Kidnapping? Turning Cas into some murky eyed slasher film wannabe?” 

“No,” Naomi said. “My job is significant. It’s a job that’s affected you and your brother more than once, not always by my hand.” 

Sam’s eyes widened. “Dean. Dean, wait.” He pulled Dean back and tugged on Castiel’s trench coat so he would come closer too. Sam lowered his voice, eyes never leaving Naomi completely. “What if she’s not Naomi?” 

“What? Then who would she be?” Dean asked. 

Castiel’s eyes lowered in deep thought. He never questioned her identity. He sniffed the air audibly. 

“She’s concerned about her job and it made me think of Atropos,” Sam said, “for like just a second and then all I can think of is how Atropos mentioned sisters and we didn’t want to anger them.” 

“Apophis?” Dean tried to place the name. Atropos was back when Balthazar roamed the earth as a snarky Frenchman. Purgatory was still too fresh of a memory. It was dominating the memories he’d made before Purgatory. 

“The librarian who was my kind of librarian more than your kind,” Sam said quickly. When he saw Dean’s mind click into recognition, he continued, “What if this is one of the three Fates?” 

Castiel glanced over at Naomi who watched them intently from her desk. She appeared confident and let them whisper without bother. He looked back at Sam and Dean. “Maybe.” 

“Can’t you tell?” Dean asked. “Some sort of super secret angel wingshake?”

“If she is Naomi, she ranks above me,” Castiel said. “If she chooses to hide her wings, I can’t see them.” 

Dean really wanted to ask what the secret wingshake was. Sam cleared his throat. “Are there other ways to tell?” Sam asked. 

Castiel sniffed the air again. “Everything smells like angel in here.” He frowned. “Including both of you.” He did not know if it was possible to bottle the smell of Heaven, but if one could, this room was soaked in it. 

“I guess there’s one way to find out,” Dean said. He ran his pocket knife along the back of his hand. 

“Are you really going to try and banish me?” Naomi asked. She stood between Castiel and Dean. 

Castiel had not felt, seen, or heard her approach. He tensed. Castiel opened the palm of his hand and bent his wrist, calling forth his sword. He spun around to drive it into her heart. Just before he could make contact with flesh, he heard Dean and Sam shout his name from a distance and for a brief flash of a second, Naomi looked like Dean. Castiel dropped his sword. He let Sam grab his wrist. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Dean’s eyes were wide. He stood where Naomi had appeared to stand moments ago. Castiel could see Naomi seated at her desk as though she never left. 

“I…” Castiel’s voice trailed. His throat felt dry. He felt his heart rate increase. He could feel Sam’s tight grip on his wrist. It did not hurt. “I thought…” his voice got very thin, “I thought you were Naomi.” 

Dean’s eyes still had not left Castiel. He finally looked away and knelt down to pick up Castiel’s sword. Dean turned it over in his hand and then he turned to face Naomi. Dean did not stumble, but he did blink multiple times when the scenery changed from an office to the vacant lot. Naomi now stood across from them towards the back of the lot. Atropos soon appeared a few yards to Naomi’s right and an unknown woman dressed in white appeared between Naomi and Atropos. 

The Doctor quickly walked in-between the sisters and Team Free Will. “Now, we’re all together. Let’s talk about this like the old souls that we are.” 

“‘Old Souls,’” Atropos said, “you’re twelve hundred years old. The oldest out of all of the Earth mortals is three-hundred and twenty-eight years old.” She acknowledged Adam’s presence beside Samandriel off to the side of the lot briefly. “Even your angels are younger than us.” 

“Doc,” Dean said with warning, still clutching Castiel’s sword in a threatening manner, “what’s going on?” His eyes were still on Naomi. He would not look away from her. She was his target. 

“It’s a mediation,” the Doctor said. “All of you,” he gestured to the sisters and then to the Winchesters and Castiel, “want the others to stop interfering with you.”

“Yeah? Well, no deal,” Dean said. “They’ve been doing stuff to Cas. Who knows what else they’ve been doing.” 

“We have business with Castiel,” Naomi said. “That business extends to both of you.” 

“What about Alfie and Adam?” Sam asked. “We’re glad Adam’s out of Hell and Alfie isn’t dead, but what did they do to you?” 

“They’ve done nothing,” Naomi said. “I can choose who lives and who dies. It’s tricky with angels and cages, but doable. Adam was never meant to suffer in that Cage, but the right angel had to bring him back to the living.” 

Adam shifted his weight. He abruptly turned and walked away. Samandriel hesitated and then followed. The Doctor watched them go, but remained to monitor the continuing confrontation. 

“I chose so carefully,” Lachesis spoke. “I measured each of your threads as I’m allowed and imprinted destiny into each.” She shook her head, “But Heaven had other plans. Heaven never works with us, it only circumvents us.” She looked past the Doctor to Dean, Sam, and Castiel. “We can’t stop existing and you keep making us irrelevant. Who doesn’t fight for their purpose?” 

“Can’t or won’t?” Dean asked. “The way I see it, you’re taking retirement badly.” He was not going to lower the sword or stop standing between the Moriai and Castiel any time soon. He also knew the Doctor would not approve of him killing any of the Moirai, but if Dean got his change, he could not make promises. 

“Who do you think brought you back from Hell?” Naomi asked. 

“I did,” Castiel said. He touched Dean’s left shoulder as he moved to stand beside Dean. “I went there with an army and I pulled his soul into the Light.” 

“Because you had an order,” Naomi said. “Who do you think gave you that order?” 

Sam took two steps forward to stand at Dean’s other side. “We don’t control Death,” Sam said. “We don’t control the angels that interfere with your jobs. These things have interfered with our lives as much as they have yours.” He reached out and put a hand on Dean’s wrist, lowering the sword. Dean gave Sam a look, but allowed Sam to do this for now. “We’re not your enemies.” 

Atropos shook her head. “You say that while standing with the angel who would have his brother kill me.” 

“He was manipulated then and you’re manipulating him now,” Dean said. “That’s not even a victory, that’s just playing the Sims hoping someone catches on fire when they make mac and cheese.” 

“The Sims? Really?” Sam whispered. Dean did not answer. Castiel’s eyes narrowed. He was not sure what The Sims was, but he was sure it was an appropriate metaphor like all of Dean’s metaphors. 

“We can leave you two alone,” Naomi said, “but Castiel has acted directly against one of us intentionally and we can’t let that go.” 

Dean took a step forward and brought the angelic sword in his hand into a threatening position once again. The Doctor started walking towards Dean and stopped when Castiel held up a hand. 

“Let me say something to them,” Castiel said to the Moirai and the Doctor. “Please.” He knew the consequences of killing a Moirai and he would not wish that on either brother. Castiel turned back to the brothers and gently took Dean’s wrist. “Dean,” he said, finding and holding Dean’s gaze, “you’re going to be safe now.” He ran a thumb along the underside of Dean’s wrist and caught his sword when it dropped from Dean’s hand. “Sam will be safe too.” 

Dean gestured towards the Moirai. “Nobody’s safe until we figure a way to –” 

“No,” Castiel said firmly. “I’ve,” he tried to think of the right slang phrase, “got this.” He looked at Sam then. Sam instinctively moved closer. Castiel made the sword disappear with a flick of his wrist. He let go of Dean’s wrist and wrapped one arm around Sam’s shoulders and the other around Dean’s shoulders. Castiel drew the brother’s closer and gently touched his fingertips to the brother’s temples. “Forget.” He frowned. “Forget Naomi. Forget today. Forget…” his voice trailed and his lips quivered. He rethought the next command. “Forget Lachesis and all that happened on this soil and in that other place.” He let go. 

Sam and Dean stumbled back. They bowed their heads against migraine headaches and covered their eyes with their hands. 

Castiel took a deep breath and then turned away. He approached the Doctor and took a bowl of lit herbs from him and emptied the contents to the ground, stomping on them so the grass and weeds would not catch fire. “They are off the table.” 

“We’ll see,” Naomi said with a small, controlled smile. Within seconds, the Moirai and Castiel were gone. 

The Doctor went to Sam and Dean’s sides. He put a comforting hand on both of their shoulders. “Are you all right?”

“No,” Dean said. The migraine headache was slowly abating to an annoyingly strong throbbing. “Shit. What happened?” 

Sam uncovered his eyes. He saw the sun setting and the neighborhood around them. “How…? Weren’t we at the motel?”

The Doctor started to guide the brothers back the way they came. He ran his tongue along his teeth. “Angels,” he said. “We found Alfie, but there were a lot of angels. One of them deleted your memories so you wouldn’t attack and they could escape.” 

Dean gave the Doctor a look. “Which angels?” 

“I don’t know,” the Doctor said. “We weren’t having a meet and greet picnic.” 

“What did they look like?” Sam asked. 

“Three women,” the Doctor said, “with different hair colors and different eye colors.” 

“That’s really descriptive,” Dean mumbled. They walked along the side yards again. Nobody seemed to be outside or paying them attention in the neighborhood. They stopped in front of the Impala that was still parked outside Craig’s house. 

“Doctor!” Craig hurried out of the door. “There you are!” He had an excited, grateful hug for the Doctor, Dean, and Sam each. “You found him.” 

“He actually found us,” the Doctor said. “He’s very clever.” 

Craig nodded. “He just came home, brought a friend. We should all celebrate. I still have to call Sophie. Everything’s happening so fast.” 

Dean looked mildly nauseated and dizzy. Sam did not feel much better. “We…” he looked to Dean, “y –”

“We’d love to, but the boys and I have to leave,” the Doctor said. “We ran into some creatures that gave us some trouble. It’s time to recuperate. Give your love to Stormy, Sophie, and Adam for us.” 

“We’re glad he came home, Craig,” Sam said. “Really.” 

“If anything weird starts happening, give us a call,” Dean said. There were more hugs and then Craig excitedly went back into the house. Dean relinquished the keys to the Doctor who had driven the Impala only once before in his other visage. They piled into the car and drove back to the TARDIS’ location. 

**WVWVW**

Adam watched the Impala disappear. He could hear Craig rummaging about the kitchen while on the phone with Sophie. He felt more than saw Samandriel come to stand beside him. “You’re not going to tell them?” Adam asked quietly. 

“No,” Samandriel said. He was still wearing the fast food uniform. “Even Sam and Dean call me Alfie. The Doctor calls me Stormy.” He shrugged. “I’m not an angel anymore.”

Adam shifted his weight. He shivered a little and took a deep breath. He felt Samandriel touch his arm briefly. 

“This is real,” Samandriel said. “Lucifer isn’t going to take this away from you.” At Adam’s skeptical expression, he said firmly, “I promise.” 

Adam was not sure such promises could be so easily kept, but he decided not to say so. He turned away from the window. The living room was foreign. He felt like he might be sucked into any chair he tried to sit on. “I lost my scholarship years ago. I guess I should try to get it back.” 

“You don’t have to decide immediately,” Samandriel said. “This is new for me too.” He nudged an ottoman with his foot. Humans had such weird furniture. 

Adam shifted his weight again. He let his arm nudge Samandriel’s briefly, checking Samandriel was corporeal. “Guess we’ll get through it together?”

Samandriel smiled. “I’m going to see if Alfie’s,” he paused and then amended, “my dad needs help in the kitchen. Make yourself at home.” 

Adam nodded and watched Samandriel go. He wondered if he was clean enough. Everything in the room was made of cream colored fabric. He stood awkwardly in the living room and looked back out the window. He wanted to follow Samandriel, but he refrained. Samandriel was going to have to get to know Craig after all, and Adam thought that would be easier without him in their way. 

**WVWVW**

Get your ass over here, Doctor,” was still scorched onto the parking lot. The TARDIS still stood where they left her. It was the middle of the night and the brothers had booked a motel a couple blocks down the street just in case anyone was looking for them to return to the scene of the vandalism. Sam, Dean, and the Doctor approached on foot. The Doctor took a moment to walk around the TARDIS to make sure she’d survived without him. 

“Like a puppy and his favorite toy,” Dean said to Sam as they watched the Doctor. 

“More like you and the Impala,” Sam said. 

Satisfied after his inspection, The Doctor returned to Sam and Dean. “Until next time.” The Doctor gave each brother a hug, somehow knowing the right moment to let go and the right strength of grip for each brother. “Good luck,” he said. Then he got into the TARDIS and in a few whirrs, Sam and Dean were alone in the parking lot. 

Dean let out a long breath. “I don’t know about you but there are still bongos in my brain.” He slept the entire drive back to the city. The headache was nothing a few pain pills and a long sleep would not fix. 

“Do you think it was angels?” Sam asked. He fell into step with Dean back to the other motel. 

“I don’t know, but when I find whatever scrambled my brain…” Dean rubbed his temple a little. He did not finish the threat. After a while, he said, “Now that’s out of the way, we should find that bunker.” 

“In the morning?” Sam asked. “My head still hurts.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “Probably flooded to Hell anyway.” When they got to the motel, he let them into their room. Neither of them set an alarm. 

**The End**


End file.
